An operatic tenor who broke the color barrier in one of Cuba's most prestigious orchestras and a musical ambassador to the United States and Europe, Antonio Machín was a pivotal figure in the history of Cuban music who is not always remembered as such. While perhaps the greatest sonero of the pre-war era, his recorded output from this period is... [+] Read More

An operatic tenor who broke the color barrier in one of Cuba's most prestigious orchestras and a musical ambassador to the United States and Europe, Antonio Machín was a pivotal figure in the history of Cuban music who is not always remembered as such. While perhaps the greatest sonero of the pre-war era, his recorded output from this period is frustratingly uneven. Several discs document Machín's career between 1929 and 1938, a prolific period when the superb quality of his best performances was not often equalled. Machín was also by nature an itinerant soul, which may account for his relative obscurity today. He left Havana for New York in 1930, New York for London and Paris in 1935, and finally Paris for Madrid just before World War II, where he lived until his death in 1977.

The salient feature of Machín's early life was that his ambition to sing opera was frustrated by that fact that he was born a poor mulatto in Cuba at the turn of the century. There is an operatic sensibility in his best performances -- "El Manisero," "Lamento Esclavo," "Blanca Rosa" -- that makes one wonder how he would have handled Verdi. In any case, in 1926 Machín made his way to Havana from Sagua La Grande, his birthplace on the northern part of the island, determined to become a singer. He soon became a featured vocalist at the Casino Nacional of Havana, the first singer of color ever to do so. In 1930 he toured with the Casino Nacional orchestra to the United States, where on April 26 the band opened at the Palace Theater in New York. There Machín sang "El Manisero" ("The Peanut Vendor"), which was the first Cuban song to become a national hit in the United States. Equally significant was the fact that the American public was for the first time hearing authentic Cuban music. Machín and the Casino Nacional orchestra were setting the stage for the U.S. rhumba craze of the 1930s.

After the success of "El Manisero," Machín released a spate of recordings in New York between 1930 and 1935. During this period he waxed some 200 sides, recording even more than American pop star Bing Crosby. Machín did much of his work in a small group format, favoring quartets comprised of claves, tres, guitar, and trumpet. While the personnel for these quartets varied, Machín was most often accompanied by guitarist Daniel Sanchez, who sings duets with him on the vast majority of these recordings. Sanchez has a pleasant baritone that contrasts with Machín's tenor, but there's no indication on any recording that he's Machín's equal as a vocalist. Best known of all the quartet personnel is Mario Bauza, who would later become the Machito orchestra's musical director. Bauza plays trumpet on some of the quartet sessions.

Often, though, Machín's voice sounds rather choked and high and his accompaniment uninspired. What accounts for the variable quality of his 1930s recordings? Some blame must be assigned to weak songwriting. It's no coincidence that two of his greatest songs, "El Manisero" and "Lamento Esclavo," were written by Moises Simons, whose pretty melodies allowed Machín space to stretch his vocal cords. But when with his quartet, Machín did not sing songs that demanded bravura performances. This is a shame, because he was more than capable of rising to the challenge. Daniel Sanchez, his partner in duets, may not have been equal to the task, a possible reason for the conservative material. Also problematic was the quartet form. Machín sounds better -- more dramatic -- backed by a large orchestra, as he is on "Lamento Esclavo." The arrangements for the quartet, on the other hand, do not always show him to advantage. They can be repetitive, and one gets the sense that Machín was cranking some of these tunes out, which, no doubt, he was. Still, Machín's place in Cuban -- and American -- musical history is secure, and justifiably so. When he's at his best, Machín's coloratura can send a chill up your spine. ~ Spencer Harrington, All Music Guide [-] Hide

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Universally known as the King of the Mambo, Pérez Prado was the single most important musician involved in the hugely popular Latin dance craze. Whether he actually created the rhythm is somewhat disputed, but it's abundantly clear that Prado developed it into a bright, swinging style with massive appeal for dancers of all backgrounds and... [+] Read More

Universally known as the King of the Mambo, Pérez Prado was the single most important musician involved in the hugely popular Latin dance craze. Whether he actually created the rhythm is somewhat disputed, but it's abundantly clear that Prado developed it into a bright, swinging style with massive appeal for dancers of all backgrounds and classes. Prado's mambo was filled with piercing high-register trumpets, undulating saxophone counterpoint, atmospheric organ (later on), and harmonic ideas borrowed from jazz. While his tight percussion arrangements allowed for little improvisation, they were dense and sharply focused, keeping the underlying syncopations easy for dancers to follow. Prado played the piano, but was often more in his element as the focal point of the audience's excitement; he leaped, kicked, danced, shouted, grunted, and exhorted his musicians with a dynamic stage presence that put many more sedate conductors and bandleaders to shame. With this blueprint, Prado brought mambo all the way into the pop mainstream, inspiring countless imitators and scoring two number one singles on the pop charts (albeit in a smoother vein than the fare that first made his name) as the fad snowballed. He was a star throughout most of the Western Hemisphere during the '50s, and even after his popularity waned in the United States, he remained a widely respected figure in many Latin countries, especially his adopted home of Mexico. Prado is often best remembered for his softer, more commercial work, which has an undeniable kitschiness that plays well with modern-day lounge-revival hipsters. Unfortunately, that has served to obscure his very real credentials in the realm of authentic, unadulterated Latin dance music, and to this day he remains somewhat underappreciated.

Damaso Pérez Prado was born in the heavily Afro-Cuban area of Matanzas, Cuba, on December 11, 1916 (though he habitually gave his birthdate as five years later). According to custom, he carried both his father's and mother's last name; his earliest recordings were issued under the name D. Pérez Prado, but the "D." was dropped on his American releases, and in 1955 he had his full name legally shortened to Pérez Prado. Starting in childhood, Prado studied classical piano, and by the time he finished school, he was good enough to play piano and organ professionally in local clubs and movie theaters. He moved to Havana around 1942 and freelanced for a number of smaller orchestras over the next year or so. Chiefly a pianist at this point, he also landed an arranging job with Gapar Roca de la Peer, which sometimes supplied material to the highly popular Orquesta Casino de la Playa. The orchestra's lead vocalist, Cascarita, liked Prado's work, and soon they hired him as arranger and pianist. This was the early platform Prado needed to develop his own arranging style, and after-hours jam sessions around Havana were already influencing his rhythmic concepts. Seeking to bring more excitement into the well-established rumba rhythm, Prado began to experiment with the hard swing of American jazz, influenced especially by the harmonically sophisticated big-band music of Stan Kenton. He also sought to build new Afro-Cuban-derived rhythms, including a pattern that was dubbed the mambo, whose early forms were traced back to Arsenio Rodriguez and Orestes Lopez.

Prado's innovations were greeted with outright hostility from Cuba's conservative musical establishment, which resisted the incursion of jazz on their native music. No longer able to find arranging work, he left Cuba in 1947 to try his luck in Puerto Rico. He eventually joined a touring group that swung through Argentina, Venezuela, Panama, and Mexico, and emerged as their star attraction. In 1948, he relocated to Mexico City and set about putting together his own orchestra, which featured a core membership of Cuban expatriates. One of those was singer Beny Moré, who performed and recorded with Prado (among several other bandleaders) through 1950; the association helped make Prado's orchestra a top draw in Mexico City, and set Moré on a path to becoming one of Cuba's best-loved singers. RCA's Mexican division signed Prado as an artist in his own right in 1949, and his first 78 rpm record, "Que Rico el Mambo" b/w "Mambo No. 5," was a hit across much of Latin America. In 1950, RCA reissued it in the U.S., with the A-side's title changed to "Mambo Jambo"; it had moderate success there too. Over 1950, Prado released numerous singles in Mexico; most of them were titled in tribute to a broad range of social classes and occupations, which helped make them wildly popular. Additionally, Prado appeared in several Mexican films, generally playing himself and spotlighting his stage act.

The early '50s were a busy time for Prado, who mounted a number of international tours as the mambo sound spread like wildfire. In Peru, Catholic authorities threatened to deny absolution for anyone who participated in mambo dancing, to little discernible effect. Prado's first U.S. tour came in 1951, with Beny Moré accompanying him; because of musicians' union rules, he was often forced to hire local musicians in place of his Mexican personnel, and train them rigorously in a very short period of time with little knowledge of English. The tour was a smashing success, however, especially on the West Coast, and RCA started releasing his records on their main RCA Victor imprint, rather than consigning them to a specialty subsidiary. In late 1953, Prado caused a stir when he was abruptly deported by Mexican officials to Havana; his sudden disappearance (he was arrested in a backstage dressing room) sparked rumors of kidnapping before he finally resurfaced to explain that he had forgotten to renew his visa.

Prado returned to the U.S. in 1954, embarking on another hugely successful tour of the West Coast. He then made his way to New York, where his orchestra played several upscale venues that helped make mambo all the rage among upper as well as lower classes. Spurred by mambo nights in clubs across the city, mambo was pushing its way into the pop mainstream, as traditional pop crooners and R&B/blues artists alike recorded Latin-flavored novelty items paying tribute to the emerging fad. Seeing that his music could cross over to the lucrative white market, Prado began to tailor it for mainstream consumption, scoring minor hits with covers of the theme from the Italian film Anna and the South African tune "Skokiaan," which signaled the beginning of a more polished studio sound. He finally scored a breakout pop hit in early 1955 with "Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White," which was used as the theme to the Jane Russell film Underwater!. Ironically for the Cuban-born El Rey del Mambo, his first major hit was an adaptation of a French song ("Cerisier Rose et Pommier Blanc"), and its underlying rhythm was a cha-cha. Powered by a dramatic, swooping trumpet lead by Billy Regis, "Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White" spent an astounding ten weeks at number one on the pop charts, making it one of the biggest instrumental hits of all time. The accompanying album, Mambo Mania, was Prado's first full-length 12" LP, and mostly featured material he'd recorded during his time in Mexico.

Prado took advantage of his success to attempt more ambitious compositions during this period. His first effort in this vein was 1954's The Voodoo Suite, an impressionistic tone poem for Afro-Cuban big band that incorporated elements of jazz and exotica. West Coast trumpeter Shorty Rogers helped out on the arrangements, and the results often recalled Stan Kenton's progressive big-band mood music, albeit with a Latin sound. The 1956 album Havana 3 A.M. was a wilder excursion that ranked as probably the purest, most authentically Latin record of Prado's commercial period. Of course, there were many commercial projects too; the biggest was 1958's Prez, which fell just short of the Top 20 on the pop LP charts. That same year, Prado scored his second number one single with the self-composed "Patricia," a slinky if subdued instrumental spotlighting his organ playing. The tune was later used in a steamy, controversial sequence in director Federico Fellini's classic La Dolce Vita. The follow-up single, "Guaglione," just missed the Top 50.

Determined not to become a one-trick pony, Prado had begun to experiment with new rhythms and dance forms as early as 1954. A rhythm he called "La Culeta" was his answer to the cha-cha, adding violins to the required instrumentation. Several others -- the suby and the pau-pau (both mid-'50s), La Chunga and El Dengue (both early '60s) -- failed to catch fire with the public as mambo had. In the early '60s, Prado began to flirt with rock & roll dances, adding Twist-type rhythms and tempos to albums like 1961's Rockambo and 1962's The Twist Goes Latin (the latter featured Twist reworkings of his two chart-topping singles). However, he wasn't simply chasing trends during this period; 1962 brought another compositionally ambitious tone poem, The Exotic Suite of the Americas, which added strings and a movie-soundtrack feel to an Afro-Cuban big band. Unfortunately, Prado was running out of commercial steam, his early thunder largely stolen by rock & roll. His last American album for RCA, Dance Latino, was released in 1965, and by the early '70s, he had returned to Mexico City permanently.

Despite his declining fortunes in the U.S., Prado remained an icon in much of Latin America, and he continued to tour successfully in Mexico, South America, and Japan during the '70s. He also released records in those markets, and appeared frequently on Mexican television. In 1981, he appeared in a musical revue, Sun, that enjoyed a lengthy run in Mexico City. A false report surfaced in 1983 that Prado had died in Milan, Italy, but it was actually his younger brother, Pantaleón Pérez Prado, who had passed away; Prado had been forced to sue Pantaleón in 1956 for impersonating him and using the performing name Pérez Prado to draw audiences in Europe. Prado himself started grooming his son, Pérez Prado, Jr., to take over the reins of his orchestra in the mid-'80s. Prado returned to America for a final concert at the Hollywood Palladium in 1987; although age and ill health had taken its toll on his stage demeanor, the appearance was a sold-out success. He passed away in Mexico City on September 14, 1989, after suffering a stroke. Prado's music has lived on in popular culture in the years since his death: "Guaglione" was a near-number one hit in England in 1995 after being featured in a Guinness beer commercial; "Patricia" was adopted as the theme for the HBO documentary series Real Sex; and "Mambo No. 5" was adapted into the unnervingly catchy novelty hit "Mambo No. 5 (A Little Bit Of...)" by Lou Bega in 1999. Prado Jr. continues to direct his father's orchestra in Mexico City. ~ Steve Huey, All Music Guide [-] Hide

By virtue of his warm, flamboyant stage manner, longevity, constant touring, and appearances in the mass media, Tito Puente is probably the most beloved symbol of Latin jazz. But more than that, Puente managed to keep his music remarkably fresh over the decades; as a timbales virtuoso, he combined mastery over every rhythmic nuance with... [+] Read More

By virtue of his warm, flamboyant stage manner, longevity, constant touring, and appearances in the mass media, Tito Puente is probably the most beloved symbol of Latin jazz. But more than that, Puente managed to keep his music remarkably fresh over the decades; as a timbales virtuoso, he combined mastery over every rhythmic nuance with old-fashioned showmanship -- watching his eyes bug out when taking a dynamic solo was one of the great treats for Latin jazz fans. A trained musician, he was also a fine, lyrical vibraphonist, a gifted arranger, and played piano, congas, bongos, and saxophone. His appeal continues to cut across all ages and ethnic groups, helped no doubt by Santana's best-selling cover versions of "Oye Como Va" and "Para Los Rumberos" in 1970-1971, and cameo appearances on The Cosby Show in the 1980s and the film The Mambo Kings in 1992. His brand of classic salsa is generally free of dark undercurrents, radiating a joyous, compulsively danceable party atmosphere.

Rooted in Spanish Harlem, of Puerto Rican descent, Puente originally intended to become a dancer but those ambitions were scotched by a torn ankle tendon suffered in an accident. At age 13, he began working in Ramon Olivero's big band as a drummer, and later he studied composing, orchestration, and piano at Juilliard and the the New York School of Music. More importantly, he played with and absorbed the influence of Machito, who was successfully fusing Latin rhythms with progressive jazz. Forming the nine-piece Piccadilly Boys in 1947 and then expanding it to a full orchestra two years later, Puente recorded for Seeco, Tico, and eventually RCA Victor, helping to fuel the mambo craze that gave him the unofficial -- and ultimately lifelong -- title "King of the Mambo," or just "El Rey." Puente also helped popularize the cha-cha during the 1950s, and he was the only non-Cuban who was invited to a government-sponsored "50 Years of Cuban Music" celebration in Cuba in 1952.

Among the major-league congueros who played with the Puente band in the '50s were Mongo Santamaria, Willie Bobo, Johnny Pacheco, and Ray Barretto, which resulted in some explosive percussion shootouts. Not one to paint himself into a tight Latin music corner, Puente's range extended to big-band jazz (Puente Goes Jazz), and in the '60s, bossa nova tunes, Broadway hits, boogaloos, and pop music, although in later years he tended to stick with older Latin jazz styles that became popularly known as salsa. In 1982, he started reeling off a string of several Latin jazz albums with octets or big bands for Concord Picante that gave him greater exposure and respect in the jazz world than he ever had.

An indefatigable visitor to the recording studios, Puente recorded his 100th album, The Mambo King, in 1991 amid much ceremony and affection (an all-star Latin music concert at Los Angeles' Universal Amphitheatre in March 1992 commemorated the milestone), and he kept adding more titles to the tally throughout the '90s. He also appeared as a guest on innumerable albums over the years, and such jazz stars as Phil Woods, George Shearing, James Moody, Dave Valentin, and Terry Gibbs played on Puente's own later albums. Just months after accepting his fifth Grammy award, he died on June 1, 2000. Several months later, Puente was recognized at the first annual Latin Grammy Awards, winning for Best Traditional Tropical Perfomance for Mambo Birdland. ~ Richard S. Ginell, All Music Guide [-] Hide

Beny Moré is the greatest singer of popular music Cuba has ever produced. Think Frank Sinatra or Nat "King" Cole and you'll get an idea of how he's perceived in Cuba, and how he should be regarded elsewhere. In the 40 years since his death, no Cuban vocalist has emerged to fill his shoes, and he remains as close as ever to the hearts of the... [+] Read More

Beny Moré is the greatest singer of popular music Cuba has ever produced. Think Frank Sinatra or Nat "King" Cole and you'll get an idea of how he's perceived in Cuba, and how he should be regarded elsewhere. In the 40 years since his death, no Cuban vocalist has emerged to fill his shoes, and he remains as close as ever to the hearts of the Cuban people. Few singers in this hemisphere have consistently matched his interpretive gifts, vocal virtuosity, and comfort with a range of styles.

Moré's genius lay in his synthesis of two of the major currents of Cuban song -- Afro-Cuban son and the Spanish-derived guajiro music of the Cuban countryside. He owed at least some of his singing style to a series of soneros who preceded him: Antonio Machin, Miguelito Valdes, and Orlando "Cascarita" Guerra. Moré's intimacy with both the African and European elements in Cuban music allowed him to be comfortable in all different styles. He was equally successful with boleros as with mambos and rumbas. Most important is what he conveyed with his singing: a tenderness and direct emotional appeal in his boleros, a hip-shaking exuberance in his mambos. Though he could not read music, Moré composed two of his smash hits, "Bonito Y Sabroso" and "Que Bueno Baila Usted." He also doubled as a bandleader and assembled a powerful big band comprised of talented musicians like trumpeters Alejandro "El Negro" Vivar and Alfredo "Chocolate" Armenteros, and trombonist and arranger Generoso "El Tojo" Jimenez. His was the quintessential Afro-Cuban big band sound of the 1950s: brash, multi-textured, dynamic. But unlike New York bands like Machito and his Afro-Cubans, Moré was not pushing the boundaries of Latin jazz. His music was more "pop" than Machito's, but it was anything but formulaic.

Born Bartolome Maximiliano Moré in 1919 in the village of Santa Isabel de Las Lajas in Las Villas Province, Cuba, Moré left for Havana as a teenager and for several years worked a variety of odd jobs while performing as a street singer in the city's port area. His big break came in 1945, when he accompanied the Miguel Matamoros conjunto to Mexico. In the late 1940s, Mexico City was a magnet for Cuban entertainers seeking to make it big in the Mexican film industry. After touring Mexico, Matamoros returned to Cuba, but Moré decided to stay behind. Before leaving, Matamoros counseled Moré to change his name since "bartolo" meant donkey in Mexican slang. Rechristened Beny Moré, in a year or two he was discovered by Mario Rivera Conde, the director of RCA/Victor Mexico, who paired him with a series of high-caliber orchestras, including those of Perez Prado and Mexican composer Raphael De Paz.

Moré's early recordings in Mexico include a balance of uptempo tunes and ballads; this proportion changed in favor of ballads when he finally fronted his own band. What's striking about the early sessions is the consistent quality and tastefulness of the orchestral accompaniment. Moré sings with five different orchestras on these sessions, yet there are few jarring contrasts. The Perez Prado orchestra is an exception to this rule; Prado's flailing piano style and trademark grunts jar in a marvelous, amphetamine-driven way. Rivera Conde's pairing of Prado and Moré was a masterstroke and produced some of the most high-energy recordings of Moré's career. Moré sang some of his most memorable songs while on his Mexican sojourn -- "Bonito Y Sabroso," "San Fernando," "Donde Estabas Tu" -- with the Raphael De Paz Orchestra. But perhaps Moré's best-known song, the bolero "Como Fue," was recorded with neither Prado nor De Paz, but the orchestra of Ernesto Duarte. "Como Fue" was included in the soundtrack of the film Mambo Kings Play Songs of Love, where it added authenticity to an otherwise watery collection of Latin music.

Moré returned to Cuba in 1953 and assembled his own big band, with whom he crissed-crossed Cuba until his death. Moré was intensely loyal to his musicians, referring to them as his tribu (tribe). Because he always insisted on having a large band, he was known to have gone out of pocket on his RCA recordings to pay his men. They responded by embellishing his songs with subtle, ornate orchestral playing. While Moré continued to record uptempo smash hits such as "Francisco Guayabal" and "Que Bueno Baila Usted," he focused on boleros, a natural showcase for his vocal and interpretive gifts. Moré had a signature vocal technique, a sort of glissando, that he used everywhere in varying forms. Typically, he would hold a note, then slide up the scale to a higher note and hold it there for a few seconds. It's an impressive, exciting device, and he uses it to build drama on boleros like "Tu Me Sabes Comprender" and "No Puedo Callar." A less frequently used but equally distinctive technique was Moré's seagull squawk, which he includes at the finale of the uptempo "Soy Campesino."

It is unfortunate that Moré never brought his outstanding band to record or perform in the United States, even though he was active during one of the rare moments in U.S. pop music history when authentic Cuban music was in demand. Moré decided to stay in Cuba after the revolution, but he didn't live long, a victim of his love for rum. All rumors to the contrary notwithstanding, Beny Moré finally succumbed to cirrhosis of the liver on February 19th, 1963 in Havana. Moré's recorded output was relatively small, cut short as it was by his premature death. In 1992, BMG Music released the majority of Moré's 1948-58 recordings for RCA/Victor on five CDs for its Tropical Series. Moré never recorded for anyone other than RCA, so all his hits are here. Nevertheless, his earliest recordings with the Miguel Matamoros conjunto are missing, and only some of his songs with the Perez Prado orchestra are included. From a technical standpoint, the discs are terrific (they sound as if they were made yesterday), but three of the five albums have no liner notes to speak of and information about session dates and personnel is either very sketchy or nonexistent, which is shabby treatment indeed for an artist of Beny Moré's stature. Moré's great legacy, though, is clear on the recordings themselves: a voice that can evoke memories of lost romance, or make you dance with joyous abandon. ~ Spencer Harrington, All Music Guide [-] Hide

The first volume in BMG's five-disc re-release, Mata Siguaraya mostly includes uptempo numbers drawn from Moré's earliest recordings with RCA/Victor. Here he is matched with several bands, most notably those of Rafael De Paz and Perez Prado. Typically, the strongest and best-known tracks -- "Mata Siguaraya," Yiri Yiri Bon," and "Ah Barbara" --... [+] Read More

The first volume in BMG's five-disc re-release, Mata Siguaraya mostly includes uptempo numbers drawn from Moré's earliest recordings with RCA/Victor. Here he is matched with several bands, most notably those of Rafael De Paz and Perez Prado. Typically, the strongest and best-known tracks -- "Mata Siguaraya," Yiri Yiri Bon," and "Ah Barbara" -- are recorded with De Paz, whose lush arrangements cloak Moré's voice in ermine. Other uptempo gems recorded with various groups include "Mi Chiquita Quiere Guarachar" and the thunderous "A Media Noche." "Batiri RCA" is a characteristic Moré/Prado matchup. Prado's horn section plays the introduction here with the nervous, wound-up sound that characterizes most of their playing. There's not much of a melody, and about halfway through Prado breaks in with one of his piano vamps, beginning with a frantic run that must use all 88 keys. He then plays a series of fractured, dissonant chords before giving the floor back to Moré. Nowhere is the tug of war between the two giants more evident. ~ Spencer Harrington, All Music Guide [-] Hide

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A nice compilation from Rhino of greatest hits by the master (and, more than likely, the founder) of the mambo. Perez Prado was the original Mambo King, and this album attempts to explain that title in full detail. Many of the softer works are here, as any good fan would expect -- "Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White," "Patricia," etc. Also, the... [+] Read More

A nice compilation from Rhino of greatest hits by the master (and, more than likely, the founder) of the mambo. Perez Prado was the original Mambo King, and this album attempts to explain that title in full detail. Many of the softer works are here, as any good fan would expect -- "Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White," "Patricia," etc. Also, the notable inclusion of a couple works that showcase Beny More's vocals helps out the album somewhat, making use of the impressive singer. In addition, the more "standardized" mambos ("Mambo No. 5" and "Mambo No. 8") were included for good measure. Overall, the album has everything that a good Perez Prado album should have, and little of what a poor album might have. The squealing, blasting trumpets and tight, competitive rhythm section work that give Prado's arrangements their true hallmark douse the whole of the album. That's a good thing for mambo fans. ~ Adam Greenberg, All Music Guide [-] Hide

The concept behind this three-CD set was to pick out some of the highpoints from Tito Puente's half-century career. Unfortunately, the end results are not very well-planned. The music skips around time-wise (instead of being in chronological order), the exact recording dates are not given (just the year), and the full personnel is also absent;... [+] Read More

The concept behind this three-CD set was to pick out some of the highpoints from Tito Puente's half-century career. Unfortunately, the end results are not very well-planned. The music skips around time-wise (instead of being in chronological order), the exact recording dates are not given (just the year), and the full personnel is also absent; only the names of a few (but not all) of the featured vocalists and soloists are given. What could have been a significant set is instead just so-so. The first disc concentrates mostly on salsa vocal performances, starting with a number from Jose Curbelo's 1946 orchestra with Tito Rodriguez doing the singing (Puente worte the arrangement) and continuing with features for Vicentico Valdes, Graciela, Abbe Lane, Santos Colon, La Lupe, Migueloito Valdes, and Machito, reaching up to 1981. The second disc is mostly (but not entirely) instrumentals from 1955-1995 including "Ran Kan Kan" and "Mambo Herd 1959" (with Woody Herman) and features for Mongo Santamaria, Willie Bobo, Candido, Steve Turre, Hilton Ruiz, and even Lionel Hampton and Cal Tjader. The second disc concludes with two previously unreleased numbers from 1977. The final CD (covering 1956-1994) has both Afro-Cuban jazz and some salsa, randomly programmed. Celia Cruz, Ray Barretto, James Moody and India make appearances. The end results of this potentially significant set are basically a mess. There is some good music along the way but it is illogically planned. ~ Scott Yanow, All Music Guide [-] Hide

Summarizing Tito Puente's numerous accomplishments on a single CD would be impossible. El Rey del Timbal!, a 1997 disc spanning 1949-1987, barely scratches the surface -- but for Puente, a five-CD box set would also only scratch the surface. But this gem-laden collection does illustrate just how remarkably consistent the salsa legend was during... [+] Read More

Summarizing Tito Puente's numerous accomplishments on a single CD would be impossible. El Rey del Timbal!, a 1997 disc spanning 1949-1987, barely scratches the surface -- but for Puente, a five-CD box set would also only scratch the surface. But this gem-laden collection does illustrate just how remarkably consistent the salsa legend was during the course of 38 years. El Rey del Timbal! kicks into high gear with 1949's "Ran-Kan-Kan" before treating listeners to such essential 1950s recordings as "Cao-Cao Mani Picao," "Cual Es Tu Idea," "Agua Limpia Todo," and "Oye Mi Guaguanco." Live versions of "Separala Tambien" and "A Gozar Timbero" from 1960 are superb, as is 1961's exuberant "T.P. on the Strip." Though salsa dominates the disc, Puente's Latin jazz output for Concord Picante in the 1980s is well represented by "El Rey del Timbal" and "Machito Forever." Die-hard Puente fans will notice that "Ban Ban Quiere," "Oye Como Va," and other essential hits are missing, but then no one said El Rey del Timbal! was all-inclusive. Again, it barely scratches the surface, but what a marvelous surface it is. ~ Alex Henderson, All Music Guide [-] Hide